Midlife affects all sort of people differently, some buy a motorbike or a swish two-seater sports car. Other have more adventurous plans, travel to exotic or remote places, or decide to throw themselves out of a perfectly serviceable aeroplane and skydive. Peter Marren wanted to do something to mark his 50th, but considerable less onerous and dangerous. He did enjoy spending time rooting about in ditches and hedges, walking through woodlands, and occasional falling over in the search for all the plants of the UK.

So far he had found 1,400 of them, but there were still an elusive 50 that he was yet to clap eyes on, including the almost mythical Ghost Orchid, a plant so rare that it hadn’t been seen in the wild since 2010. This journey would take him backwards and forwards across the British Isles from Sussex to Cornwall, Norfolk to the Inner Hebrides, searching for ultra-rare plants that are wonderfully named, such as the Slender Naiad, Creeping Spearwort, Leafless Hawk’s Beard and the Few-Flowered Fumitory. On a lot of his trips, he is joined by friends and experts to assist in the search or to provide that detailed knowledge of the exact location where these plants are.

His enthusiasm for his small green subjects is compelling. He does mention a couple of personal matters in the book, as seems to be the habit these days. However, this is a very well written book one man’s search for some of our rarest plants, but more importantly, it is also a reminder that all of our natural world is under threat, not just the headline species. Thought it was interesting that the Plantlife, who is the organisation who carries out similar work to the RSPB but for plants, have a fraction of the membership of that organisation. Seems like they need our support as much as the others. It is a timely reminder to look all around you when out and about, not just at the thing that you went to see. If you like this then I’d recommend The Orchid Hunter by Leif Bersweden and Orchid Summer by Jon Dunn. ( )

A wonderful book (in the strict sense of the word!)

I saw a review in Cotswold Life and decided to give it a try, via Worcestershire Libraries--delighted to read it, therefore in a hardback which is satisfying in feel and appearance. I have always been interested in wild flowers, but only in the sense of needing to identify everything I encounter when I am out and about. I have never wanted to seek out or collect to seek out wild flowers. I am, however, a serial collector, and understand the OCD need for completion. In this regard I achieved a collection of every ha’penny from Edward VII to decimalisation. When I moved on to pennies, however, I soon became aware that the extreme rarity of some specimens made a complete collection impossible. So, I understood the underlying sense, highlighted by the book's title and opening chapter, that this would be a valiant best effort, with the distinct possibility of failure.

Lacking a deep technical interest, the process of selecting the fifty, and the precise description of some of the plants passed me by. The quest, however, was gripping. Marren's descriptive writing, whether of journeys, landscapes, companions, or the objects of the quest, is brilliant. I felt, so often, as if I was there with him—an armchair viewer, immersed in the experience, without the intense physical effort which went into achieving it.

This was in no way a moralizing book, but it raises serious questions about the impact of humanity upon the natural world. Yet, to my surprise this was not the only reason that some of these plants were pushed to the margins. Sometimes it was natural disaster which eliminated habitat, sometimes genetics made the plant to fussy, sometimes the well-intentioned efforts of conservationists actually had a negative effect. Some plants one just had to feel sorry for because of their own choices. This is focused in his sadness at tiny populations which are effectively gardened and no longer truly wild.

Despite the breadth and majesty of far flung landscapes, and, within them, esoteric and often unimpressive botanical specimens, this is an intensely human book. Along the journey Marren comes to terms with mortality, through both his own illness, and his Mother’s death. With this background he draws the reader into a deep appreciation of the ‘little things’--a close and wondering attention to what is here and now.

My personal favourite episode is the Sorbus minima sought and found in the Brecon Beacons (Chapter 40, pp.90-97). How I would love to be a hieraciologist!

A final note: I am so glad that no attempt was made to illustrate this book with photographs. The simple line drawings which introduce each plant are perfect. ( )